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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26564491">The Trial</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/parkkate/pseuds/parkkate'>parkkate</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>First Kiss, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Humor, M/M, Oblivious Harry Potter, Post-War</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 10:02:18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>4,099</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26564491</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/parkkate/pseuds/parkkate</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Harry speaks at Draco's trial, they have an awkward tea party and a pushy house-elf is Draco's wingman.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>427</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>The Trial</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Thank you aceveria for being the bestest friend and reading this out loud for me and having the best reactions EVERRRR. ily bro! ❤️️❤️️❤️️ I never want to publish anything without having your approval! :D ❤️️</p>
<p>So this was a total accident. I wrote the first part about a year ago? And now this happened. Literally today. So yeah... some of you may have read the first part... now there's more awkwardness :3</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“I understand we have one more testimony, is that right?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes, Minister.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ah, Harry, I mean, Mr Potter.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Harry gives Kingsley a curt nod and tightens his grip on the parchment in his hands. It almost feels like a security blanket. If he loses it, he’s doomed. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I—I want to thank the Wizengamot for hearing my testimony,” he says through gritted teeth. Hermione told him to say that, to butter them up. He doesn’t feel thankful at all. Not one bit. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He smoothes out the parchment with shaking fingers, trying to concentrate on the people in front of him, not on the person sitting behind him, whose pale eyes are undoubtedly glued to the back of his head. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I have known Draco Malfoy for seven years now. And for six and a half of those, he was terrible. To me and to my friends.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Out of the corner of his eye, he can see several witches and wizards nodding in approval.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“However,” Harry says, raising his voice. “the person I‘ve gotten to know in the last few months is a person who regrets his actions, who regrets the part he played in the war.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A murmur goes through the room as the present crowd realises where Harry is going with this.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Not only does he admit he did wrong, he also realises why it was wrong. Do I think he should be punished for his actions? Yes. Is imprisonment the right punishment? No. What Voldemort did to him—” Harry pauses, narrowing his eyes, “—what you did to him while holding him here, and living with the guilt he’s been feeling, that’s enough of a punishment.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Kingsley opens his mouth as though he wants to contradict Harry, but he swiftly closes it and shifts in his seat.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Furthermore—” Harry clears his throat, willing himself to calm down. He’d be so much more comfortable using his own words, but he knew he’d blow it if he didn’t ask Hermione for help. “Furthermore, the circumstances of his situation should be taken into consideration. His mother, Narcissa Malfoy, was willing to sacrifice everything to save her son, and she did, by helping me defeat Voldemort.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That’s a lie,” Harry hears somewhere in the crowd.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Were you there?” A witch clad in lilac robes interjects. “Let the boy talk.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Harry suppresses a snort and wonders if he should thank the witch. He gives her a quick nod, which she returns. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It also shows that Draco Malfoy is someone who is deeply loved and he himself acted out of love.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The murmur grows louder and Harry is almost sure there will be outbursts of protest if he doesn’t say something else.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“As Albus Dumbledore once told me,” he improvises, “we shouldn’t pity the dead. We should pity the living, above all those who live without love.” He takes a deep breath and briefly closes his eyes. “Draco Malfoy was protecting his family. I’m not saying this makes things right,” he quickly adds when he sees several people scowling at him, “but we can all relate to that, can’t we? Ask yourselves what you would do to make sure your family is safe.” He pauses and the dramatic effect he was going for seems to have its intended effect. “And now I’m asking you for a fair ruling. And what I mean by that, is not to judge Draco Malfoy by the mistakes of his father. Judge him by his own mistakes. He’s ready to take full responsibility for them, but, in my opinion, he’s already paid the price for them.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Harry stares at his parchment. That’s it, that was the whole speech. He looks up and catches Kingsley gazing at him with an unreadable expression.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“He wants to change,” Harry says. “Give him a chance to do that.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Thank you, Mr Potter,” Kingsley says, raising his chin. “We will take your testimony into consideration.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Harry sighs, grabs the parchment and watches the members of the Wizengamot as they leave the room one by one. It’s out of his hands now. Was it ever really in his hands? Will they even take his testimony seriously?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Harry.” Kingsley hesitates by the door, waving him over. “I—” He gives Harry a strange look. “Were those really your words?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Harry freezes. Did he break any rules by letting Hermione help him? “What do you mean?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I mean… Maybe it was a mistake, sending you to Malfoy.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I heard he’s excellent at manipulating people.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Harry stares at him, baffled. “You think he manipulated me? You were the one who suggested I should go talk to him because you value my judge of character.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes, Harry, I know, but—”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No. I’ve been talking to him for the last six months and guess what. I found out he’s human.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Kingsley raises an eyebrow.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Believe it or not, I forgave him. If you can’t, I think it says more about you than it does about him.” He knows it’s a bit dramatic, but without waiting for Kingsley to reply, he turns on his heels and stomps away. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He should have known Kingsley would have doubts. He probably isn’t the only one. Well, they haven’t talked to Malfoy every day. They didn’t get to see this other side of him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Potter.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Harry jumps and turns around. He furrows his brows at Malfoy’s weird expression. His eyes quickly flicker over to Narcissa Malfoy, who’s standing by the door, waiting for her son.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Potter, I—I really don’t know what to say.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You don’t have to say anything,” Harry says, forcing his lips into a smile. This feels awkward. Almost as awkward as their first conversations. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well—” Malfoy looks like he’s being tortured. “Thank you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Harry lets out a little cough and nods. He knows he’s blushing. He can feel the heat on his cheeks. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It was just the truth, Malfoy,” he murmurs. He has no idea what else to say and considers just turning around and running away when he hears Narcissa Malfoy clearing her throat.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Right, um—” Malfoy looks down at the floor. “Mother would like to invite you over for dinner. I mean, </span>
  <em>
    <span>we </span>
  </em>
  <span>would like to invite you over for dinner. If I’m not being sent to Azkaban, that is. Well, I guess you could still have dinner with my mother, but I can’t imagine you’d want that.” He freezes. “Not that I’m saying you’d want to have dinner with </span>
  <em>
    <span>me</span>
  </em>
  <span>, I—” Malfoy breaks off when Harry starts laughing, unable to suppress it any longer. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Malfoy babbles when he’s nervous; that’s one of the things Harry discovered while getting to know him. He doesn’t know when it happened exactly, when he started thinking about him like that, but it’s those little things that make Malfoy almost endearing.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’d like that,” Harry finally says, his lips stretching into a genuine smile. “I’d really like that, Malfoy.”</span>
</p><hr/>
<p>
  <span>It wasn’t a lie when Harry said that. It really wasn’t. But now that he’s at Malfoy Manor, sitting at the dining table and drinking tea in the most awful silence, he can’t help but wonder if this was a mistake. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Lovely weather we’ve been having, don’t you think?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Harry nearly drops his cup before he clears his throat and forces himself to look at Narcissa Malfoy.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“Uh, yeah, it’s been, um, sponderful.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Mrs Malfoy raises a questioning eyebrow as Harry tries, with all his might, not to slap himself across the face. He meant to say wonderful but started saying splendid. She must think he’s an idiot. No, she must think he’s more of an idiot than she already did.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“The plants in my garden are really enjoying the sun,” Mrs Malfoy says, as though Harry hasn’t just thoroughly embarrassed himself, and puts her cup back on the saucer. It doesn’t make any noise. How does she do that? “Would you like some more biscuits?” she asks, and pushes the plate towards him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, yeah, great. Thanks.” Harry quickly takes one, even though he isn’t hungry, but he’s pretty sure she would be insulted if he refused. They are good biscuits. Lemony. “They taste really good,” he says, crumbs flying out of his mouth. He can feel himself flush as he hastily wipes them off the table. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Thank you,” Mrs Malfoy says, the corner of her mouth twitching. Harry can’t tell if she’s annoyed or amused. “Old family recipe.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You baked them yourself?” Harry asks, aware that he’s staring at her.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh yes, I enjoy baking very much. As does Draco. Isn’t that right, dear?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Harry blinks, his gaze darting over to Malfoy. He hasn’t said one word in the last half hour, his eyes glued to the hands in his lap.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You bake?” Harry says, completely nonplussed.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well…” That’s all Malfoy says.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“His peach pies are even better than mine,” Mrs Malfoy says with an air of pride.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Huh. That’s… interesting. He didn’t know that about Malfoy. There’s probably a lot more Harry doesn’t know about him, but he does know he has changed and is willing to do whatever it takes to become a better person. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So, Harry,” Mrs Malfoy says after a moment, “I hear you declined the Ministry’s offer to take you on as an Auror trainee?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Harry’s stomach twists. “Uh.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Does that mean you have other plans?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Harry looks down at the biscuit in his hand, unsure of what to say. “Not really,” he murmurs.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Mrs Malfoy nods. “No need to rush into anything. After all that you’ve been through.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Harry considers this for a moment. A few months ago, a comment like that, especially out of Narcissa Malfoy’s mouth, would have made him livid. Now, he can almost feel her sympathy. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Besides, working for the Ministry isn’t for everyone. It takes—” she hesitates. “It takes a special type.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Harry swallows around the sudden lump in his throat. It feels like the temperature in the room just dropped several degrees. They’ve been carefully avoiding the subject of Lucius Malfoy, who, as he should be, is serving his sentence in Azkaban. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Excuse me,” a high-pitched voice chimes in. “The meat is almost ready.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ah, yes, thank you Mabel.” Mrs Malfoy rises from her seat. “You will stay for dinner, of course,” she says to Harry. It is not a question. Well, the invitation had been for dinner. Tea was just a fun, little, awkward bonus he supposes.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Of course,” he smiles bravely.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Very well,” she says before she vanishes, probably to the kitchen, the little house-elf trailing after her.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Sooooo,” Harry says, just to fill the silence.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So,” Malfoy responds. Harry remembers him to be much more eloquent than that. But maybe this is just as awkward for him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The house-elf reappears and starts clearing the table. She pauses beside Malfoy and cocks her head. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Why isn’t Master Draco talking to Harry Potter?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Malfoy startles and frowns at her.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Master Draco would not stop talking about Harry Potter. He was very excited for Harry Potter to be coming over, yes he was.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Now Harry is frowning at her as well.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Mabel knows Master Draco is liking Harry Potter, so why isn’t he speaking to him now? Did Master Draco make an oopsie?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“MABEL!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“An oopsie?” Harry asks. And then he bursts into booming laughter. He laughs so hard, he accidentally knocks over his cup, tea spilling all over the table and onto his lap.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Now Harry Potter has made an oopsie,” Mabel reprimands and hurries over to him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Harry is still laughing as she shoos him away to the bathroom. He quickly glances over his shoulder to see Malfoy staring at the table, as though he wishes it would turn into a monster and swallow him whole.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Harry pauses in front of the bathroom and takes the opportunity to steady himself and take a deep breath. This day has been all sorts of weird.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Harry Potter should be inside the bathroom,” Mabel says, suddenly appearing beside him. “Harry Potter should be cleaning himself.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Harry smiles at her. “No need,” he says, takes out his wand and casts a non-verbal spell. “See? All cleaned up.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Mabel eyes him suspiciously; the more she looks, the more uncomfortable he feels.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Is, err, is something wrong?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Is Harry Potter liking Master Draco?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Harry blinks at her. “Am I—What?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Is Harry Potter liking Master Draco?” she repeats, more emphatically this time.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I, err,” he bites the inside of his cheek. “Yeah, sure, I like him.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Mabel narrows her eyes. “But </span>
  <em>
    <span>how </span>
  </em>
  <span>is Harry Potter liking Master Draco?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Excuse me?” He raises an eyebrow at the very pushy house-elf, wondering what she’s playing at. “I like him just fine.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“But hooow?” she insists.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Harry cocks his head. This could either be another very weird episode, or this could get interesting. He crouches down in front of her, resting his arms on his knees. “What do you mean?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Her huge eyes slightly gloss over and her lower lip ever so slightly starts to tremble. “Master Draco is saying he likes Harry Potter.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes, you mentioned that,” Harry smiles. “I like him, too.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“But Master Draco is saying Harry Potter is not liking him like Master Draco is.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>What? Wait. What? Harry has no idea what she’s talking about. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Master Draco is a very sensitive child,” Mabel says gravely. “Mabel is not wanting Master Draco to be sad.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I don’t want him to be sad, either,” Harry says carefully. “Am I making him sad?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Mabel thinks Harry Potter is making Master Draco happy and sad at the same time.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What—What does that mean?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Since Master Draco came back from the Ministry, he is being very different.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Different how?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Mabel sniffs. “He is sitting by the window, watching the peacocks. Master Draco hates the peacocks.” She sniffs again. “Mabel can tell Master Draco is not happy. Master Draco sighs a lot while he looks at the peacocks.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Maybe he just needs some time to process.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Mabel shakes her head, making her ears flap from side to side. “No process. Mistress Cissy says he’s sick.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Harry’s eyes widen. “He’s sick?” How sick? Is it serious? Why hasn’t he told Harry?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Mistress Cissy says it is because of Harry Potter.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Once again, Harry stares at her. It’s because of him? How can it be? Did he do something? Oh god, is that why they invited him to dinner? Is this some sort of revenge plan? What the fuck is going on?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Mabel, are you sure you heard that right? Is he really sick?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Mabel nods. “Mabel is seen it before.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You have?” Harry asks, surprised.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Master Lucius is also sad and is sighing a lot when Mistress Cissy is away in France.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Uh.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“MABEL! What are you doing?” Malfoy booms.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She turns to him with a look of utter innocence. “Mabel is just talking to Harry Potter.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes, I can see that,” Malfoy grinds out.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, Mabel should be helping Mistress Cissy,” she says importantly before she scurries away.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Merlin, what did my house-elf tell you?” Malfoy asks; his tone almost suggests he’d rather not know.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Honestly,” Harry says as he straightens himself, “I’m not sure.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Malfoy gives him an odd look, as though he’s trying to decide whether or not he should believe Harry.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They stand there, once again in awkward silence, until Harry clears his throat. “Can I see your room?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What?” Malfoy looks like Harry just asked him if he wants to be trampled by a horde of Erumpents. “You want to see my room?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah,” Harry smiles. “Will you show it to me?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Malfoy seems to be deliberating for a moment, until he turns on his heels and motions for Harry to follow him. They move up the grand staircase and pass room after room after room. Just how big is this place? </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Malfoy stops at the end of the hall, his fingers hesitating on the doorknob. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Is there something illegal in there?” Harry quips. He immediately regrets it when Malfoy gives him a sour look. “It was just a joke, Malfoy.” Belatedly, he adds, “Sorry.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Malfoy heaves a sigh and finally opens the door. As Harry steps inside, he can’t help but notice that Malfoy’s room is pretty much as he pictured it; stuffy, enormous, with a green colour scheme — obviously — and a cosy-looking four-poster. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Nice room,” Harry says,for lack of anything else to say.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Malfoy just snorts.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Harry takes another look around until his eyes land on one of the windows; there are pillows and a blanket on the window sill. It looks like a cosy little nook. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Feeling his heartbeat pick up, he walks over to it and looks outside. Sure enough, just as he expected, he can see the garden. And the peacocks.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Confusion washes over him as he tries to put together the missing pieces. Because there are lots of missing pieces here. What Mabel told him doesn’t make any sense. Because that would mean… It would mean… </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You sit here a lot?” Harry asks before he can stop himself.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Pardon?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Here, at the window.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Malfoy gives him a quizzical look.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Okay, look.” Harry sighs and sits down on one of the pillows. “Your house-elf… She might have told me some things.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I knew it,” Malfoy groans. “What in Merlin’s name did she tell you?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Not much. Um.” Harry bites his lip. “Just that you, um, that you’ve been sad?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Sad,” Malfoy deadpans. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah. I think she’s worried about you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Malfoy makes a dismissive gesture before he sits down on his bed, not too far away from Harry.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“She, um, she…”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Merlin, whatever it is, Potter, spit it out!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Harry finds his gaze. And holds it. “She seems to be under the impression that I made you sick.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>That seems to catch Malfoy off guard. He goes completely still, his eyes wide. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The tension in the room is almost palpable. Harry can’t stand it. “You know, I thought those days were over,” he says with a grin.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It takes a moment for Malfoy to react, to reciprocate the grin. Something about it doesn’t feel right.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“But, err,” Harry starts, not knowing how to continue. “I, um, I thought she might have—I mean, you know, for a moment, I thought she was talking about, um…” He swallows, his nerves getting the better of him. He stares at Malfoy, who is staring right back at him with fearful eyes, slightly rosy cheeks and his lips pinched into a thin line. “What I mean to say is, err, I thought she was telling me that you—that you—”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They both jump when something, or rather someone, bangs against the door before it swings open.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Mabel,” Malfoy says, a little breathlessly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She tippytoes into the room with a large basket balancing on her head. “Mabel is bringing Master Draco’s underpants,” she announces.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Now</span>
  </em>
  <span>?” Malfoy asks heatedly. He darts over to her and wrenches the basket out of her grip. “Weren’t you helping mother?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Mabel nods.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Why in Merlin’s name are you bringing me the laundry, then?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Mistress Cissy asked Mabel to bring it.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Now?” Malfoy repeats.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes,” Mabel sniffs. “Mistress Cissy also told Mabel to check on Master Draco.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Why would she ask you to do that?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So Mabel can see if Master Draco is not sad anymore.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Malfoy blinks at her. “I—What?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Mabel knows,” she says, dropping her voice. “Mabel knows Master Draco is sad because Harry Potter is not liking Master Draco like he is.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Malfoy’s expression turns stony. He looks over his shoulder, at Harry — probably a reflex — and suddenly, it feels like the room is starting to spin. It’s like they’ve been plunged into icy cold water. With no escape.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I never said I didn’t like him the same way,” Harry blurts. He only realises what he just said when Malfoy starts having a coughing fit. They stare at each other while Harry wonders if Malfoy can hear his erratic heartbeat.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Out of the corner of his eye, Harry sees Mabel also staring at him, her lips shaped into a little ‘o’. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You—You—What?” Malfoy says.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Um.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Is Harry Potter really liking Master Draco?” Mabel asks, stepping closer.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I—” Harry swallows. “Yeah,” he finally says, locking eyes with Malfoy again. “I do like him. A lot, actually.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Harry watches as Malfoy’s mouth falls open, his flush undoubtedly matching Harry’s.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Does that make Master Draco happy?” Mabel asks, and Harry nearly laughs.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I—I—” Malfoy looks like a fish on dry land. “It does,” he says quietly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“If Master Draco is happy, Mabel is happy,” she says with a smile. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Malfoy tears his eyes away from Harry to look at his house-elf. She beams at him and wraps her arms around his neck when he opens his arms to her for a hug. The sight tugs at Harry’s heartstrings in the best way. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Mabel will go back to Mistress Cissy now,” she says. “Mistress Cissy will be happy to hear that her plan is working.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>What</span>
  </em>
  <span>?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Before Malfoy can say anything else, Mabel is already at the door, which she closes behind her. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I can’t believe this.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“This… is not how I pictured this day to go,” Harry murmurs.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Tell me about it,” Malfoy grumbles.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“But, err—”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Malfoy’s eyes snap back to Harry’s and it’s very clear neither of them have any idea what to do now.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So. Your mother. She planned this.” It’s not meant to be an accusation and Harry hopes Malfoy realises that.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I didn’t know,” he says.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Harry nods, trying to stop wringing his hands in his lap. “Yeah, well, maybe we both needed a little nudge.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“She’s not the nudging type,” Malfoy says as he sits back down on the bed. “More like a full-on push.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I noticed,” Harry laughs.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So you… don’t think it’s weird?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, I think it’s weird,” Harry says. “But…” He bites his lower lip, trying to decide if he has the nerve to do what his brain, very unhelpfully so, screams at him to do. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“But?” Malfoy gives him a look that seems… almost hopeful.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Harry exhales loudly and tries to gather all his courage. While his mind is cheering him on, his knees, those pesky traitors, buckle and instead of walking over to where Malfoy is sitting, he crawls. He must look ridiculous. But if Malfoy thinks so, he doesn’t show. His eyes are fixed on Harry and he looks like he’s holding his breath.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Careful not to spook him, Harry, still on his knees, gently puts his hands on Malfoy’s thighs and looks up at him. “I guess it would have taken us another six months without your mum’s help.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And—And Mabel’s,” Malfoy breathes.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And Mabel,” Harry agrees.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“But—I don’t—I don’t understand.” Malfoy lets out a shaky breath. “How—How can you like me?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s easy,” Harry shrugs, not thinking too hard about it. “You make it very easy.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>For a moment, Malfoy looks like he doesn’t believe him. Maybe he can’t believe him. But then, something flashes across his face, something like determination, and before Harry knows what’s happening, Malfoy is cradling his face with both hands and murmurs, “Fuck it.” And then Harry is craning his neck as Malfoy leans down and </span>
  <em>
    <span>oh god</span>
  </em>
  <span>, he was not prepared for how warm and soft Malfoy’s lips would be. They slide over Harry’s with such sweet and strong intentness, it makes him grip Malfoy’s thighs a little harder. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He lets out an appreciative sigh when Malfoy’s hands glide into his hair and then he feels Malfoy’s tongue sliding against his and it’s warm and silky and </span>
  <em>
    <span>oh god</span>
  </em>
  <span> the way he tastes! </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Harry tries to bring himself up higher, he needs to be closer to Malfoy. Much closer. Malfoy seems to agree; he pulls Harry onto him, onto the bed and </span>
  <em>
    <span>Dear Merlin</span>
  </em>
  <span>! He’s lying on top of Malfoy. And they’re snogging. He’s snogging Draco Malfoy. This is the best day ever.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ahem.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Oooor… maybe not.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They both look up, faces flushed, to find Narcissa Malfoy standing in the doorway.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Draco, dear, how many times have I told you not to have dessert before dinner?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Mother, oh my </span>
  <em>
    <span>god</span>
  </em>
  <span>!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>If it hadn’t been so fucking awkward, Harry would have laughed.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Dinner is ready,” Mrs Malfoy says with a little smile. “I hope you’ll both join me downstairs. And I promise in return, I will not be joining you for dessert.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Mother!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So glad you came over, Harry. It’s been sponderful so far,” she says, and Harry could swear he just saw a house-elf ear vanish behind her gown.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Me too, Mrs Malfoy,” Harry laughs into the crook of Malfoy’s neck. “Me too.”</span>
</p>
<p><br/>
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</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thank you so much for reading! :)</p></blockquote></div></div>
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